


A Terrible Idea

by angelsfalling16



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Sharing a Bed, SnowBaz, college students on break for christmas, fake dating au, there will probably be some deniall too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-25 04:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17114114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsfalling16/pseuds/angelsfalling16
Summary: Simon and Baz live in neighboring apartments, and one day, Simon smells something burning in the next apartment over. When he finds out what is going on with Baz, he offers to be Baz' fake boyfriend when he goes home to visit his family. This is obviously not a good idea because we all know how this will end.





	1. Baking Trouble

**Simon**

There is the smell of something burning in the air, but it isn’t coming from my apartment. I think it’s coming from the apartment next to mine, the one where Baz lives. I should go check on him to make sure he is alright, but I don’t know if that would be the best idea. We don’t really get along that well.

That’s an understatement actually. We don’t get along at all. He practically hates me. I can’t really remember why. I don’t think that there is even a reason why. We moved into this apartment complex around the same time over the summer, and we attend the same college in town. I can’t remember him ever not hating me. It’s like as soon as he saw me, he decided that he was going to hate me.

It’s not fair to put all of the blame on him because I can’t stand him either. He’s annoying and arrogant, and he always sneers harsh remarks about my appearance when he sees me. I can’t help that I don’t have perfectly slicked-back hair and flawless skin like him. We once got in a fight over something that one of us said. I don’t remember what it was that was said, but he ended up shoving me down the stairs. Luckily, I made it out with no serious injuries.

We are both in our second year of college now. I lived in a dorm last year, and he commuted from home. I guess he decided to move out on his own and closer to the campus. I don’t know for sure. I barely got the information that I do have out of him. He’s either very secretive or just doesn’t want to talk to me. It’s probably the latter.

I stand in front of my door for a moment, debating whether or not to risk his wrath. My roommate left to visit his family as soon as he finished his last final, so I can't send him over instead. And as far as I know, Baz lives alone, so it will definitely be him that I will have to talk to. I sigh as I decide that I would rather go make sure that he isn’t going to set our neighboring apartments on fire than avoid him. I step out of my apartment and take the few steps down to his door.

There is loud music pouring through the cracks in his door, and I am surprised that I didn’t notice it when I was inside. I pound heavily on the door so that I can be heard over the music. I rock back and forth on the balls of my feet as I wait for him to answer. After a minute or two, I lift my hand to knock again just as he flings the door open.

“What?!” Baz shouts.

My eyes widen in surprise, and I take a half step back. My eyes travel up from his bare feet to his pajama pants that are covered in Christmas trees and hang low on hips to his torso where he is not wearing a shirt to the frown on his lips to his eyes that are rimmed in red and up to his messy hair. His hair is usually perfect when I see him. He looks like a wreck. I think he’s been crying, but I have enough sense not to mention.

“Is something burning?” I ask him.

“The cookies,” he says quietly. His voice shakes, and he looks like he is about to break. I have to strain to hear him over Mariah Carey singing _All I Want For Christmas Is You_. Why is he listening to this song so loud?

I chew on my lip, trying to figure out what to do. He looks like he could use a hug, but I am the last person he would want a hug from. He runs a hand through his tangled hair, and I try not to stare at his naked chest. Who answers the door without putting a shirt on anyway?

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask.

“What? Do you have an ability to unburn food that I didn’t know about?” He sneers at me. There’s the Baz I know and—. Not love. Hate.

I don’t hate him, though. I just don’t understand what I did to make _him_ hate _me_.

“No, but I can help you make another batch if you want,” I’m practically shouting to be heard over the music as the same songs starts again.

“Why would I want your help?” He asks, crossing him arms over his chest.

“Because you apparently couldn’t do it yourself.” I don’t mean to be rude, but Baz always manages to get under my skin. I take a breath and try again. “If you don’t want my help, that’s fine. I’ll just go.”

I turn away from him, and I’m back in front of my door when he says, “wait.”

I turn back to face him, and he looks softer. His eyes are watery, but I ignore that. I’ve never seen him look so sad. I wonder what happened.

“Do you know how to bake?”

“Yes.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

I sigh. He’s absolutely ridiculous. “First, why would I lie about that? Second, I baked some scones this morning, and you can try one. Then, you’ll see that I was telling the truth.”

“Fine, bring them over, and we’ll see.”

I roll my eyes and turn the knob to my apartment. I return quickly and find that he is still standing in the doorway where I left him, the same song blasting out of his apartment behind him.

He takes one off of the plate and it inspects it slowly before taking a bite. He chews it slowly, keeping a straight face the entire time.

“This is amazing,” he says quietly before taking another bite. I bite back a smile.

“So, do you want my help or not?”

He still looks uncertain for a moment. He takes another bite as he thinks about it. “Yeah, I guess,” he sighs finally.

“Okay, but on one condition.”

“What?”

“You turn off this awful song.”

“Don’t you like it?” he asks, and I wish that he sounded like he was joking.

“No. Especially not with how loud you have it.”

“Fine. Come on in.” He says, stepping to the side and gesturing with the hand that isn’t holding the half-eaten scone.

I step into his apartment and watch as he closes the door behind me before walking over to the stereo and hitting a button to shut it off. I let out a breath of air at the relief of being able to hear myself think again. My ears ring with the sudden silence as I follow him into his kitchen and set the plate of scones down on the counter.

“What recipe were you using?” I ask, rolling up my sleeves.

“This one.” He hands over a piece of paper that is crumpled and stained and missing a corner. I can’t even imagine what this thing has been through.

I read over the recipe and locate most of the ingredients on the counter and have him get the rest out of the fridge. I grab a clean bowl and double check to make sure we have everything.

He moves slowly, like he is just going through the motions, and I can’t help but wonder once again what happened to him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

“About what?” He sneers, and I change my mind. It isn’t worth it. I should just keep my mouth shut until I can get out of here. Why did I even volunteer to help him in the first place?

“Nothing. I just—. Nothing.” I start measuring out the ingredients and adding them into the bowl. “Do you know where you went wrong last time?”

“I got distracted and didn’t hear the timer go off.”

“I’m not surprised,” I murmur. “Your music was really loud.”

“It was not,” he says defensively. I just shake my head at him.

“You can start by throwing those away,” I say, pointing at the pan of charred cookies. “And then spray the pan so that I can spoon these out onto it.

He nods, and we work in silence for a while, me mixing the ingredients and him standing behind me, still no shirt in sight. When I turn and nearly bump into his bare chest, I finally decide to ask him about it.

“So, uh, what happened to your shirt?” I ask, keeping my eyes trained on the cookie dough as I carefully spoon it out and place it on the cookie sheet.

“I took it off,” he says matter-of-factly.

“I can see that, but why?”

“I got flour on it.”

“And instead of changing you just took it off?”

“I had begun changing when I smelled the cookies burning. Then, you knocked on the door.”

So, that’s why he got distracted. He was too busy admiring his flawless skin to pay attention to the cookies. He is so self-absorbed.

Baz’ phone rings as I’m sliding the cookies into the oven. He steps out into another room, and I lean against the counter, unsure what to do now that my hands aren’t busy. I try not to eavesdrop on Baz’ phone conversation, but the apartment is really quiet, and his voice carries out of his room.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in the morning.” He pauses to listen to the person on the other side. “You know what, he doesn’t have to come,” he says softly. “It will be easier that way.” Another pause. “No, we’re fine. I just don’t want to make things any worse with dad.” A longer pause. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. We’ll be there. See you tomorrow.”

It’s quiet now, and I feel awkward just standing here in his kitchen. He comes out after several long minutes, and his eyes look redder than they did before. At least he’s wearing a shirt now.

“Are you okay?” I ask as he renters the kitchen area.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” I say, but the oven timer goes off before I can press the issue any farther.

I pull the tray of cookies out and set them on the counter to cool for a few minutes. I turn back to him, and he is staring at the ground.

“How many cookies do you want to make? Should I make more dough?”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter,” he says without emotion.

He does not look okay. Something must have just happened to make thinks even worse, and it probably isn’t my place to press him for information. But maybe the fact that we don’t get along is a reason for him to talk to me. He can tell me whatever is bothering him, and we won’t have to see each other anymore. I won’t ever bug him about it again.

“Come on,” I say quietly. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing. And why would I tell you anything? We aren’t friends.”

“It’s not nothing. And I’m just trying to help.”

“Why?” He sneers, finally looking up at me. “Why would you want to help me?”

I shrug. “It’s almost Christmas. Everyone should be happy on Christmas.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groans. “I hate Christmas.”

“Then, why were you playing that Christmas song so loudly when I got here?”

He chews on his lip for a moment before saying, “I was just having a rough day.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He looks as if he is about to say no but then changes his mind. “My boyfriend broke up with me.”

“Oh. I—. I’m sorry.” That explains why his eyes were red, but it does not explain anything else.

“It’s fine. He broke up with me a couple of weeks ago. I’m mostly over it.”

“Then, what happened today?” I ask, hoping that I don’t sound like I’m just being nosy.

“I’m supposed to be going home for a few days tomorrow, which is why I baked the cookies, and he was supposed to be coming on this trip with me. I don’t know how to tell my family that he isn’t.”

“If you just try to talk to them, I’m sure that it will be fine.”

“No, it really won’t. They already didn’t approve of me having a boyfriend, and they kept telling me that it wouldn’t last. That I would change my mind soon enough. If I show up without him, it will be like I’m proving them right.” His voice breaks during the last sentence, and my heart hurts for him. I don’t even know him or his family, but I hate them and want to help him prove them wrong. That’s when I get an idea.

“Do they know anything about him? Like, have they ever seen his picture or whatever?”

“No,” he says bitterly. “They didn’t want to know anything about him, and maybe they were right. He did dump me.”

“Hey, no,” I say firmly. Usually I’d be stumbling over my words, talking like this, but the anger that I feel on his behalf is making me feel suddenly bold. “They are not right, and I am going to help you prove them wrong.”

“How?” He asks skeptically.

I don’t know why I’m saying any of this. I haven’t even taken a moment to think it through. But it makes me so upset that his family could treat him like this and make him feel this awful. I am determined to help him in any way that I can, and the words start tumbling out as I explain the plan to him.

“I’ll be your boyfriend. Your fake boyfriend I mean. They don’t know anything about your ex, so they won’t know that I’m not him. We can hold hands and kiss or whatever. We will prove to them that we are happy and that they were wrong.”

He just stares at me, wide-eyed, as I talk. He probably thinks I’m crazy, and maybe I am. We aren’t even friends, so why would we pretend to be dating?

“W-Why would you do this?” He asks. “I mean, why would you help me?”

“To prove your family wrong.”

“I should clarify. I know I said that it was my whole family, but it was really just my father. My stepmother doesn’t mind, and most of my half siblings are too young to really understand.”

“That makes me feel better, knowing that they don’t all feel that way, but I still want to help you with this. If you want me to of course. I could just leave, and we can forget about all of this. It’s your choice.”

He tilts his head to the side as he thinks it over. He’s probably trying to decide whether to face his family alone or pretend to be dating someone that he hates. I don’t know which I would pick if I was in his place.

“What about you? Aren’t you going to go visit your family?”

I drop my gaze down to the floor. “I don’t have any family. I bounced around between care homes, so I was just planning on staying here over the break.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

I just shrug. It doesn’t bother me as much as it did when I was little and wondered why everyone else had families who wanted them at Christmas while no one wanted me. I’ve gotten used to it now, though, and I don’t mind a nice, quiet break after the stressful semester. That isn’t to say that it doesn’t still hurt to be alone during the holidays.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks.

“Yes,” I say walking closer to him.

His eyes drift up to the ceiling, so I look up, too. Hanging above us is mistletoe.

“Uh, we don’t have to—. I mean—.” I stutter, starting and stopping several sentences.

I look back down, and he’s watching me with an amused smile. He takes a small step closer so that we are directly beneath it, and there is little space between us now.

“It would be good practice.”

“P-practice? For what?”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “If we’re going to pretend to be boyfriends, we should make sure that you’ll be able to pull it off.”

“Me? What about you?”

“I think I can play the part quite nicely. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“What makes you think that I won’t be any good?”

He shrugs with a grin on his face. It’s a challenge.

“Fine. Let’s do this,” I tell him.

“Alright. Kiss me then.”

“I will.”

He raises his eyebrows at me, waiting. He and I both know that I’m just trying to delay it for as long as possible. What have I gotten myself into?

I turn my face up to his, and he turns his down to me. We’re so close that our lips almost brush. I can feel his breath ghost across my mouth, and it sends shivers through my body. I’ve never kissed a boy before. I’ve only ever kissed one person before, and she dumped me before we graduated high school. It’s been a while, and I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this.

It doesn’t matter if it’s good, though. We’re just pretending. He doesn’t have to like it. He probably won’t since he hates me, and I don’t know why I care so much.

He quirks an eyebrow at me and it looks like he is about to say something. I don’t let him. I press my lips to his softly. His lips move against mine, and they are so soft. My hands find his hips and rest there as he pulls me closer to him. This feels much better than I thought it would.

I pull away as that thought runs through my head, and my heart is racing. I pull my hands away and try not to make eye contact. I should not have liked the kiss that much. I shake myself because it doesn’t mean anything that I liked it. It just means that he is a good kisser. I barely know him.

“That was,” he says breathily, “interesting.”

I nod and turn away from him. I pick up a spatula and start removing the cookies from the pan, acting like this is the most important thing that I should be thinking about right now, but I’m really just hoping that he can’t see the way that that kiss affected me.

“I guess you’ll be alright at playing the part,” he says.

“Not as bad as you thought I was, huh?”

“Sorry I ever doubted your abilities,” he says sarcastically, but he’s laughing. The sound of his laugh relaxes me slightly, and I push any thoughts of the kiss to the back of my mind.

“We have enough to make two more batches of cookie after this one,” I tell him as I spoon out more dough onto the pan. “Then, we’ll be done.”

“Oh, good,” he says.

He sounds relieved that I’ll be leaving soon, and I hate how disappointed I feel at that. I thought maybe this whole thing would make him be friendlier. I was apparently wrong. I don’t think we’ll be able to pull off the whole couple thing in front of his family if this is how he is going to act.

There is mostly silence between us as we finish baking the cookies and put them away in containers. He tells me a little about his family and how long he plans to stay with them. I help him clean up the kitchen while the last pan cools, ignoring his insistence that he can manage it on his own.

“So, I’ll see you in the morning?” I say as he snaps the lid onto the cookies.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” He says quietly. He isn’t looking at me, though.

“I know, but I’m going to. I will help you get through these next few days and then you’ll never have to talk to me. Things will go back to normal.

“Right, normal.” He’s giving me a look that I don’t understand, and I don’t know how to respond to that.

I head towards the front door, letting myself out.

“Eleven o’clock,” he calls after me.

“What?” I ask, turning back around at the door.

“I plan on leaving at eleven o’clock. So, you should be ready to go before then.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

When I leave his house, the sun has begun to set. The sky is a wondrous mix of oranges and pinks. I stare at it for a while before I head back into my own apartment and start packing. I realize that I have no idea what his family is like. Do they dress casually or formally for Christmas? It doesn’t matter because I don’t have anything formal anyway. I try to grab the nicest clothes I own, which aren’t really nice at all, and I  hope that they will be good enough. If Baz’ family dresses as nicely as he does, I’ll stick out no matter what.

I don’t know why I care. I’m not really his boyfriend, so it doesn’t matter if they like me. I just have to be there to support Baz and make his family believe that he still has a boyfriend.

I barely sleep tonight because I keep worrying about what I’ve gotten myself into. At around six in the morning, after getting only about three hours of sleep altogether, I finally decide to get up and make some coffee. I go to get some scones to eat and realize that I left the plate at Baz’ house. I sigh and settle for toast with tons of butter. It’s not as good, but it will do.  After breakfast, I set off with Baz on our short road trip, worried about what’s to come.


	2. Meeting the Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I posted the chapter before the end of the day, with less than 45 minutes to spare.
> 
> I hope you all like it! <3

**Baz**

My alarm goes off early in the morning so that I will have time to shower and finish packing before it’s time to leave. I stretch and yawn, wishing that I could hit snooze and sleep for a few more hours. I couldn’t sleep last night because I kept replaying that kiss through my mind. If every fake kiss we have is like that, I don’t think that I will be able to make it through the next couple of days. I’ll have to try to avoid anything like that happening again.

That kiss left me feeling breathless, and I was stunned by how it made me feel. I’ve been at a really low place in my life ever since I got dumped, but that kiss was like a jolt that helped me reset my emotions. I didn’t expect to feel that way.

The kiss didn’t even seem to phase Simon. It was like it was nothing to him, like he felt nothing. I guess that was how it was supposed to be since we’re pretending to date, but it’s hard to believe that I am feeling so much while he felt nothing.

When I finally drag myself out of bed after only a few hours of sleep, I shower quickly before walking into the kitchen to make something to eat and find the plate of scones that Simon left here last night. I wrapped the plate in plastic last night when I noticed them, and I decide to eat one now and return the rest of them to him when he comes over. They really are delicious, and I am envious of his baking skills. I can’t even make cookies without burning them.

He shows up at exactly ten-thirty, and I have to keep myself from rolling my eyes at him. When I told him to make sure that he was here on time, I didn’t intend for him to show up half an hour early. I wordlessly hand him the plate of scones before disappearing into my room to finish dressing and packing.

**Simon**

He leaves me in his living room without saying anything. I don’t know whether I should continue standing her or sit down or go back outside. I pull at the plastic that’s wrapped around the plate that he handed me and take one of the scones from the plate. Even though I just ate, I can’t resist eating one. Scones are my favorite food in the world. They never fail to make me feel warm and happy on the inside, no matter how down I am feeling before eating one.

I finally decide to take a seat on the couch, careful not to get crumbs all over the place. I’m grateful that he isn’t playing any Christmas songs today. I don’t think that I would have been able to stand it. I want to move around his apartment and check out his stuff, but I don’t want to appear nosy or creepy, so I just stay where I am, fiddling with the strap of my overnight bag.

When Baz finally steps out of his room carrying two suitcases, I wonder whether I should have packed more. We’re only staying three nights, so I thought that I had enough, but it looks as though he has twice as much stuff as I do. He is also dressed much nicer than I am. Where I just threw on the first pair of jeans and shirt that I saw, he is wearing fitted, dark jeans and a dark grey button up shirt that bring out the lighter grey color in his eyes.

I feel horribly underdressed and like I should go buy all new clothes, but that’s ridiculous. It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing. I should just focus on being myself and not screwing things up for him. I stand up and grab my bag. I polished off all but one of the scones while I waited for him, and I offer him the last one. He gives me a small smile as he lifts it off of the plate, and for a moment, I feel like things will be okay. We might be able to actually get along. But then, the smile disappears as quickly as it appears, and his usual scowl returns to his face.

“Ready to go?” He asks as if I haven’t been sitting out here, waiting for him, for twenty minutes.

“Yeah, just let me go put this plate in my apartment, and we can go.”

He nods, and we head out together.

**Baz**

He doesn’t say much during the drive, but every time a Christmas song plays on the radio, he immediately changes the station. I’m unsure whether it’s because of how loud I was playing that song yesterday or if he just really doesn’t like Christmas music. It saddens me that he could dislike Christmas that much.

I told him that I hated Christmas yesterday, but if I’m being honest, I was just being dramatic. I actually love Christmas. It isn’t because of the presents, although those are nice, too. I love the feeling in the air of being close to people and everyone gathering together to give each other gifts and just be in each other’s presence for a day.

I know that he hasn’t always had the best Christmases since he didn’t ever really have a home, and I can’t even begin to imagine what that feels like. There is a part of me wants to make this Christmas good for him since he has never had any good experiences, but I don’t know how things will play out with him and my family. They may choose to hate him because they think he’s my boyfriend. I feel bad bringing him with me and putting him in the line of fire. I probably should have explained that my family doesn’t exactly approve of me having a boyfriend, that it was more than just the one person, but I didn’t know how to. He will probably hate me even more than he did before when this whole thing is over. I only hope that I don’t fall even more in love with him at the same time.

I thought that I was over him. I even thought I could have fallen in love with the guy that I was dating. I had stopped wondering about him everyday and wishing that I could see him, even if it was just from a distance, but there’s nothing like him showing up when I’m having a breakdown and acting like he cares for me to realize that I was wrong. I’m not over him. I never really was. I only got good at pretending like I was.

That doesn’t mean that I didn’t like my ex. I did, and my heart still hurts form losing him. It’s just that I’ve liked Simon practically since the moment we met. I moved into my apartment a few days after he moved into his, and he came over and welcomed me in. He looked so adorably flustered, and his roommate kept trying to start a conversation with me, but I only had eyes for Simon. His hair was a mess, and he was dressed in sweatpants and a worn-looking t-shirt. He looked comfortable in a way that I never could in that outfit. I always feel the need to be dressed up or to put too much effort into what I’m wearing before I go out in public.

Even if I’m just running down the road to the store, I spend at least twenty minutes getting dressed and doing my hair. And that is on the days when I feel like I’m dressing down. I can’t imagine what it would be like to go up to some stranger’s door without making sure that there isn’t a hair out of place. I don’t mind taking the time to look nice, though. It’s who I am, and I like dressing well. I like that Simon is different, too. His casual clothes don’t make him look careless. They make him look relaxed, and I like that about him.

He looks nice in what he’s wearing today, too, and I feel overdressed next to him, like I tried harder than I should have. He doesn’t seem to care or notice, though. He just sits quietly in the passenger seat, staring out the window. I consider trying to start a conversation, but I don’t know what to say. We don’t anything about each other, and I’m pretty sure he hates. I decide that he would probably rather not talk than be forced to make small talk with me, so I keep quiet the entire time. It’s only about an hour drive from our apartment complex to my parent’s house, so it isn’t that bad.

***

“What’s our story?” Simon asks suddenly as we pull into the driveway that leads up to my house.

“What?” I ask, not sure what he means exactly.

“Our story. As a couple,” he says slowly. “How did we meet? How long have we been together? Is there an anniversary I’ve forgotten? What about gifts? Should I have gotten you something? Oh no, what about your parents? Should I have gotten them something? I’m a terrible boyfriend. Fake boyfriend.” His words speed up as they tumble out. He’s starting to panic.

“Woah, hey, it’s okay,” I say as I put the car in park. “First of all, breathe. Second of all, I can promise you that they won’t ask about us. They don’t care.” I try not to sound too bitter as I say this, but it’s sadly true. “Third, you don’t have to give them it’s a gift. It will be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely,” I assure him.

He takes a breath and visibly relaxes. He must have been working himself up on the drive here. Things likely won’t get any better. I think about leaning over and hugging him, but that might make things worse.

“You all good now?” I ask.

“I think so.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

I shut off the car, and we grab our things from the trunk. I slowly lead him up to the door, wanting to put off entering my house for as long as possible. I place one of my suitcases down and ring the doorbell. I chance one last glance at him and am relieved when he doesn’t look as panicked as he did a moment ago.

I place my hand on the small of his back while we wait for someone to answer the door. The gesture is more to help me calm my own nerves than it is for show. Having him next to me helps ground me and reminds me that I am not alone on this trip. Even if we aren’t exactly friends, at least he’ll be there if things get hard. I only hope that he doesn’t hate me even more when this is all over.

I am surprised when it is Mordelia who opens the door. I didn’t expect it to be my father, but I thought Daphne would want to check out my supposed boyfriend before she lets us in.

“Baz!” Mordelia squeals. She jumps at me and wraps her arms around me tightly. “I missed you. It’s been so long since you were here. Months!” Her voice is muffled by my shirt.

She pulls away and looks up at Simon, who is standing very still beside me. I can’t read the expression on his face, but he looks like he maybe regrets agreeing to come with me. I feel bad for him. If I could, I would turn around and drive us back home.

“Who are you?” Mordelia asks him.

“Uh—.”

“Mordelia, come back in. I told you to wait for me before you answered the door,” Daphne says as she comes into view.

“But I wanted to see Baz and his friend.”

“I know. So, why don’t you invite them in.”

“Come on!” She says tugging on my arm.

I don’t follow her, though, because I can’t just leave Simon alone.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” I tell her, and she runs off, into the house.

I face Daphne, and say, “this is Simon. My boyfriend.” It’s weird to say, and I hope it doesn’t sound as false as I think it does.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” she says with a smile, and it sounds like she means it.

I let out a quiet breath of relief, glad to see that maybe she really is okay with this.

“Nice to meet you, too, ma’am,” Simon says politely, holding out a hand.

I have to force myself not laugh at how ridiculous he sounds. I love that he’s trying so hard, but he doesn’t have to be so formal.

“Call me Daphne,” my step-mom tells him, shaking his hand and smiling at him. I’m glad she’s being friendly because I had been worried that my father would turn her against me while I was out of the house. “Now, come on in out of the cold, you two.

**Simon**

Baz’ house is big. Like, really big. The entryway alone is bigger than my bedroom. I try not to show how amazed I am by how big and fancy everything is, but it’s hard. The chandelier that hangs from the tall ceiling is dazzling and hurts my eyes to look at. My feet seem to sink into the rug that we step onto, and there is a large mirror hanging on the wall beside the door that reflects my out-of-place self back to me.

I feel a pressure around my hand and look down to find Baz’ hand wrapped around mine. I look up to meet his eyes, and he is looking at me quizzically.

“Are you alright?” He asks quietly. “You look a little overwhelmed.”

“I’m fine. Everything is just so…grand.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and it softens his features. I look away to take in more of the house. There are curved stairs that lead up to the second floor, and I can see through the house to where there are elegant French doors that lead up to a large backyard. I can’t imagine growing up in a house this big, and I wonder what it was like for Baz.

“Just leave your luggage here for now,” Baz’ stepmother says. “I made sandwiches for lunch.”

My stomach growls in response, and I look down at the floor as I feel my cheeks warm. Baz squeezes my hand before setting his stuff down, and I follow suit. He doesn’t let go of my hand, though, as we follow his step-mom into the kitchen.

**Baz**

Simon looks so awe-struck by everything. Even the sandwiches have him staring wide-eyed and making soft noises of delight. He’s cute like this, and it makes me want to try to protect him from all of the bad that lies in hiding in this house. I almost wish that I hadn’t brought him along.

Luckily, my father waits to say anything until after we’re all done eating. Then, when my younger siblings have disappeared to other rooms of the house, he starts in.

“So, where are you from, Simon?”

“Here and there. I bounced around between different foster homes.” He says it so calmly, like he was expecting to be questioned when he came over. And maybe he was. Maybe that’s one of the things that he was worrying about on the drive over.

“I see.” The way my father says it is cold, like he couldn’t care less about Simon or his childhood.

I reach out and take Simon’s hand underneath the table. I’m afraid that it will only get worse if I speak up, but I want to remind him that I’m there.

“Do you have a job?”

“During the school year, I work at the library on campus.”

“And you like that work?”

“Yes.”

“Is that what you want to do when you graduate? Become a librarian?” His tone is almost mocking, and I want to yell at him to stop. I don’t. He wouldn’t listen, and things would only get worse.

“Uh, I-I’m not sure. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Huh. What year are you?” It is starting to sound more and more like an interrogation.

“Sophomore.”

“Like Baz.”

“Yes.”

“And do you two live together?” My father asks, and I still, wondering what he is trying to get at with this. Does he think that I moved in with a boy when I left? Or is he trying to see if there is still hope for me after all?

“No.”

“Good. Then, you won’t mind sleeping in the guest room while you are here.”

“Malcolm,” Daphne says in a warning tone, speaking for the first time since the interaction between my father and Simon began.

“I’m fine with the guest room,” Simon says. He tries to at least, but my parents talk over him.

“What is so wrong with them sleeping in the same room?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want them to be sleeping the same bed.”

I hadn’t really thought about sleeping arrangements when Simon said he would come over. I really should have, though. Now, I won’t be able to stop. I almost hope that my father wins this argument. Almost.

They argue back and forth like this for a while, neither of them asking me or Simon what we would prefer. Daphne ultimately wins out in the end, and it is decided that Simon will be sleeping in my room. In my bed.

They continue to argue even though Daphne has won, but Simon and I sneak away. I need to get away, and so does he, before my father can think of anything else to say or ask.

**Simon**

After Baz’ father is done questioning me, Baz leads me up the stairs and into the library. Baz’ house has a _library_. It’s amazing. I only wish that I was better reader and could truly enjoy this. Baz walks over to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that look at out over his backyard and the woods behind it.

“I’m sorry about all of that,” Baz says quietly, turning to look at me.

“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault.”

“I should have warned you. He wasn’t always like that but—.” His voice breaks off, and I walk over to where he stands by the window. I take his hand like he did with me while we were at the table.

I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say. I just don’t want him blaming himself for his father’s actions. We stand like that, looking out at all the trees, covered in a light dusting snow. We’re supposed to get more snow overnight, and I’m excited to see what the yard looks like when it is blanketed in snow.

After a few, quiet minutes, he pulls away and walks over to a couple of large, comfortable-looking chairs that are placed in front of a roaring fireplace. He grabs a book from one of the shelves on the way and tells me that I can read something, too, if I like. I tell him that I would rather just enjoy the view for now. I stand there for a while longer before walking along the shelves, checking out the selection of books that run the perimeter of the room.

There’s a desk on the far side of the room, and when I pass by, I notice a couple of picture frames sitting on it. One picture is of Malcolm and Daphne, and another is of Baz’ step-siblings. There is another picture with a younger-looking Malcolm, and he is standing next to a darker woman who is cradling a small child in her arms. She looks a lot like Baz, and I think she might be his mother. I wonder what happened to her. Next to that picture is one more. It is of the same woman, and she is holding the hand of a small boy. It’s Baz. He looks so happy there, smiling up at his mother instead of at the camera.

I glance over at where he sits now, his head buried in a book, and wonder if I’ll ever see him smile like that. I finish walking around the room before selecting a book and joining Baz. It’s nice just sitting here and reading with him. I never seem to find time to read just for fun. I’m always reading books that have been assingned for class.

We read quietly together for a couple of hours. When dinner time comes around, Baz says that he will go and get food and bring it up here. He doesn’t want to sit through another meal with his father right now, and I don’t blame him.

He picks at his food while I eat a lot. I can never seem to get enough to eat after growing up with very little. I always enjoy it when I get to eat meals like this, and I hope that Baz doesn’t think that I’m a pig. I do my best not to feel self-conscious, though, and I’m glad he isn’t staring at me. He seems to be in his own little world right now. I want to reach out and to comfort him, but I don’t know how I could be of any help.

**Baz**

“I can sleep on the floor,” Simon says when we enter my room late at night. We spent most of the day in the library, sometimes reading and sometimes not. It’s my favorite place in the house. It’s where I go when I want to get away, and no one ever bothers me there.

“And what will my parents say if they come in and see you down there? Our plan will fail.”

“Your father would probably be pleased. And do you think that they will actually come in here in the middle of the night.”

“No, I don’t. But you still don’t have to sleep on the floor. My bed is big enough for the both of us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now, go change. The bathroom is down the hall, second door on the right.”

When he’s gone, I sink down onto the edge of bed. Now that I have a moment alone, I can stop pretending like I’m fine. My father didn’t completely freak out, but things are still weird after he kicked me out earlier this year.

I didn’t tell Simon the full truth about what happened with my family. I came out to them in early May, and my father told me that he wanted me out of his house by the end of the summer. That’s why I live in an apartment now. In a way, it’s the reason I met Simon. In a cruel way, my father is the reason I met this boy that I fell in love with, and I feel like laughing hysterically over it. It’s a good thing because I met this amazing guy, but it’s a terrible thing because he will never feel the same away about me.

I quickly change into some pajamas before Simon comes back, and I return to my spot on the edge of the bed. He walks in, and his cheeks flush red when his eyes find me seated on the bed. He might not be as cool with sharing the bed as he sounded like he did.

“Which side of the bed do you want?” I ask him, trying to make him feel as comfortable as possible.

“It’s your bed. You choose.”

“Fine,” I say and move up towards the head of the bed and pull the covers down.

He stands still for another moment before slowly making his way over to the bed and carefully settling onto the edge. It’s really uncomfortable for a moment as we both just sit there, unsure what to do or say. Finally, I realize that I have to get up to turn out the light, and when I do, he slides under the covers and edges as close to his side of the bed as he can. I make my way back over in the dark room and climb into the bed, careful to stay on my side.

I lie very still as I listen to his breathing. It doesn’t take long before he has fallen asleep, and I am amazed that he was able to fall asleep so easily. If I was in his place, I don’t think I would have slept at all. I’m not sure I will anyway. I lie awake for a long time, wondering if the next couple of days will be this simple or if my father will gradually get worse until it ends in a yelling match like last time.

I shouldn’t have come back, but Daphne asked me to. Also, I wanted to see my siblings again. I just wish things were easier. I wish my father wasn’t so against me being with a guy.

These thoughts run around in my head as I try to sleep. The only thing that keeps me from falling apart right now is the fact that Simon is less than a foot away sleeping peacefully. I hope that I didn’t make a big mistake in bringing him here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to chat about Carry On or anything else, you can find me on Tumblr. My url is angelsfalling16


	3. The Truth Comes Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe that I actually finished this before Christmas was over. It would have been posted yesterday, but I didn't have enough time to edit. I had a lot of fun, though, and I hope you all enjoy it!

**Baz**

I wake up early in the morning and decide to stay in bed for a while longer before I have to go and face my family. I snuggle up into the warmth of my blankets and try to fall back asleep, but when they move, I realize that I’ve moved closer against Simon and not my covers. I open my eyes and freeze. I’ve completely broken the space between us, and if he wakes up and finds me like this, I will have to explain why I moved against him even though I didn’t do it intentionally.

I try to slowly inch away from him, trying not to wake him, but there is something holding me in place. I look down at my waist and realize that Simon’s arm is wrapped around me, and his head is inches away from my chest. I hold my breath, trying not to disturb him. There is no way that I can move away without waking him up now.

I decide to just wait him out and try again to fall back asleep, but it is difficult now that I recognize the sweet smell of the shampoo in his hair. It’s a nice scent, and I want to bury my face into it and breathe deeply. I hold myself back, though. With my luck, that would be the moment he woke up, and then he would punch me.

I lie very still for a few more minutes, until I feel him stirring. I quickly close my eyes and pretend to be asleep as I feel his arm pull away from me. My body goes cold at the loss of contact, and I want to pull him back to me.

I feel the weight of his body leave the bed. I stretch and slowly open my eyes, pretending like I just woke up. He’s standing beside the bed, his arms stretched over his head, and his shirt rises up showing a small strip of skin above the waistline of his pants. I look away before he notices me staring and get out of bed.

**Simon**

We head downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast, and we find that everyone else has already eaten, so we have the kitchen to ourselves. I avoid making eye contact with him as he pulls stuff out to make cereal. When I woke up, I had my arm wrapped around him, and my body was pressed up against his. I am so glad that he didn’t wake up and find me like that.

I don’t know how he would have reacted. He probably would have shoved me out of the bed and made me walk back home through the snow. We’re supposed to be pretending to date, but that doesn’t mean that I have permission to hold him while we’re sleeping. I didn’t mean to, but I don’t think he’d see it that way.

We don’t talk as we eat. We sit side by side at the breakfast nook, and after breakfast, he leads me into the living room where his younger siblings are watching a Christmas movie. In the corner of the room, there is a large Christmas tree with presents piled up underneath it. He sits on the couch, and I hesitate before sitting down next to him. After another moment, I reach out and take his hand, intertwining our fingers. It feels like the couply thing to do right now, and when he doesn’t pull away, I know I made the right decision.

I pretend to watch the movie, but I’m more focused on how fast my heart begins racing as Baz runs his thumb slowly back and forth along the back of my hand. I respond by pressing my leg against flush against his. There’s no one watching us right now, so I’m not completely sure why I’m doing this. It feels nice, though. He releases my hand, and I feel like I’ve done something wrong. I’ve messed up this entire couple thing. But then he wraps his arm behind me, and I turn and lean back against him. This is much better.

Neither of us say anything throughout this entire exchange. We are silently exploring this new thing between us that isn’t really a thing. In a weird way it feels nice being this way with him. It’s a lot different from the way that we usually act around each other, and it is comforting in a way. I’m in a strange house, full of strange people and being this close to him makes me feel a little less alone.

Then, his phone rings in his pocket, and the moment is ruined.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, as he struggles to pull out his phone without jostling me too much. I sit up to make it easier for him even though I hate that I am no longer leaning against him. “I’ll be right back,” he tells me as he stands. “Hello?” He says as he walks out of the room.

I can’t help but speculate about who was calling him. I also can’t help that the person that pops into my head is his ex. Maybe he’s calling to say that he made a mistake. That he wants to make it up to him by coming over now and spending Christmas with him. I don’t know why, but this thought makes me jealous. I’m enjoying being in his company, and I don’t want this to be ruined.

I shouldn’t be jealous. I don’t like him. We’re supposed to be enemies or whatever. But maybe we don’t have to be. I shake that thought out of my head.

I’ve known for a few years that I’m attracted to guys, but I cannot be attracted to _this_ guy. That would complicate things beyond repair. We’re only fake dating. It could never be more than that because he hates me. He’ll never see me as anything more than the boy next door, who he hates for whatever reason.

The doorbell rings, and my heartbeat picks up speed, my imagination running wild with the idea of Baz’ beautiful ex showing up at the door to win back his heart. I have no idea what his ex looks like, but he’s got to good looking if he was with Baz.

A minute later, Baz walks back into the living room and over to where I still sit on the couch.

“I have a couple of people that I want you to meet,” he tells me.

I hesitate. Why would he want me to meet his ex? It probably isn’t his ex, but why would he want me to meet people. I’m only supposed to be pretending to date him in front of his family. Are there for family members here? Should I be worried?

I nod finally and follow him into the entryway. Standing by the door are two guys, both attractive in different ways. I wonder for a moment if I should hold Baz’ hand or do something else to make us seem like boyfriends, but I am too afraid that one of them might actually be his ex because I can’t get that unrealistic thought out of my head.

“This is my cousin, Dev, and his boyfriend, Niall.”

Oh. So, not his ex.

“Actually,” the taller one says to Baz. “We have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“We’re engaged,” the shorter one says.

Baz’ eyes widen, and I can tell that he was not expecting that.

“That’s great,” he says genuinely. “So, that’s why you were so insistent on the phone that you come over right now.”

“We wanted to tell you in person.” It’s the shorter one who says this.

“I’m happy for the both of you,” Baz tells them.

“So, who is this?” The taller one asks, turning his attention to me.

“This is Simon.”

“New boyfriend?”

“No. Not exactly, Dev.”

Oh, the taller one’s name is Dev. That’s makes the other one Niall.

“And what does that mean?”

“Let’s go up to my room and I’ll explain it to you there.”

Baz leads our small group upstairs, and I bring up the rear, not eager to have to socialize with people I don’t know.

**Baz**

Simon is quiet as I explain to Dev and Niall about why he and I are pretending to date. They find it amusing, but they also understand why I’m doing it. Dev leans against Niall, and I feel envious for a moment even though I am happy for them.

My father doesn’t care that the two of them are dating because they aren’t his children. He only cares that I’m gay. It’s hard not to hate him for that, to hate that he can accept everyone else when he can’t accept his own son. I don’t want to think about that right now.

I glance at Simon, who is siting almost two feet away from me. I want him to be closer, for him to lean against me like he did when we were sitting on the couch. I want another chance to hold him in my arms and pretend like this thing between us is real, like things are okay. Maybe if I had lied to Dev and Niall… But they already knew that my ex and I are over, so I couldn’t pretend with them.

Dev and Niall detail to us about the engagement and how school has been for them this semester. They seem to be having a really good time, and I wish that we all went to the same school like we did in high school. I miss seeing my two best friends every day.

After a while, Simon says that he is going to go outside to get some air. I offer to go with him, but he says that he can manage it on his own. I wonder if I should go anyway, just in case he runs into my father along the way, but I decide to let him have a moment away. The entire time that he is gone, though, I keep glancing at the door, worried, and wondering if I should check on him.

If Dev and Niall notice, they don’t say anything.

**Simon**

When I leave Baz’ room, I head straight for the French doors that lead out back. I don’t see anyone else as I walk through the house, but I’m not surprised because this house is huge.

I open the doors and step out into cold air. I take a deep breath, loving the way that the frigid air feels in lungs. I look out over the backyard, which is now covered in several inches of snow. The snow is perfect. No one has stepped out in it yet. I consider walking through it, but I don’t want to ruin it, so I just stand on the back porch for a while.

I had to get out of Baz’ room for a bit. I felt an outsider, intruding in a world where I didn’t belong. Baz’ world. While I appreciated their attempts to bring me into the conversation, it felt weird because I don’t know any of them. I know nothing about any of them or whether Baz’ friends are pre-inclined to hate me like he does.

I stay outside for about fifteen minutes. I barely register how cold it is because I always run hot, and the cool air is nice against my skin. After a while, I finally decide to go back inside before anyone comes looking for me.

**Baz**

Almost as soon as Simon is gone, Dev and Niall start asking questions about him and what I’m doing with him.

“So, what’s going on with you and Simon?” Dev asks.

“I told you. He’s pretending to be my boyfriend.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” Niall asks.

“Yes.”

“Where did you even find someone to be your fake boyfriend?”

“He lives next door to me.”

“Wait, he’s _that_ Simon? So, is this not fake?”

“No, it is. He doesn’t feel that way about me.” They know pretty much everything, including how I feel about Simon.

“Then, why did he agree to do this with you?” Dev asks.

“He volunteered actually.”

“Really? And you think he doesn’t like you?” Niall asks skeptically.

“I know he doesn’t.”

“How?”

“He hates me. We’ve never gotten a long.”

“Yeah, you’ve told us that before, but you never told us why.”

“That’s because I don’t know why. We met that day when I moved in, and then nothing. He avoided me whenever he saw me. I don’t know what I did.”

“Haven’t you tried talking to him? Maybe he likes you and didn’t know how to talk to you.”

“I don’t think that’s what it is.”

“And I think you’re wrong,” Dev tells me.

“Well, I’m not going to get my hopes up. We’ll be going home the day after tomorrow, and then things will go back to the way they were. We won’t even talk after this.” It hurts to admit this. I don’t want things to go back, but I don’t know how to change them.

“Don’t you want it to be more than that?”

“Yes, but—.” I cut myself off when I hear the doorknob turning. I’m glad that I did when Simon walks into the room.

His cheeks are flushed red, and I wonder if he went outside in what he’s wearing. Surely his t-shirt and jeans were not warm enough for that. The good news is that it doesn’t seem like ran into any trouble. He joins us on the floor again, closer to me this time, but still not close enough to touch without reaching over and having everyone see.

Dev and Niall leave after about an hour, saying that they have plans for lunch. I walk them to the door, and Simon and I return to the living room, where my siblings have started another Christmas movie. I can’t help but feel a little disappointed when he doesn’t lean against me time. He does reach out to hold my hand, though, and I hate how pleased I am by this. It will only lead to more disappointment when this is all over.

**Simon**

Christmas Eve dinner at Baz’ house is almost as grand as the house itself. There are so many different dishes to choose from, and I take some of everything. I pile my plate full of food and try not to get it on the nice clothes I’m wearing.

Apparently, Baz’ family dresses up in fancy clothes for Christmas Eve dinner. When he stepped back into his room after changing into a dark green suit, my jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He looked stunning. I didn’t know that the dinner was going to be formal. Luckily, he had a grey suit that he is letting me borrow. It’s almost as nice as his. I’ve never been this dressed up before. It’s nice.

Our arms brush every once and a while as we pass food and eat, and it sends a small jolt through my body every time. It’s starting to feel less like I’m faking these feelings for him and more like I’m developing a crush for him.

I’ve messed up. I’ve gone and fallen for the last person that I should be falling for. It was only supposed to be pretend, and I’ve crossed the line into dangerous territory. I don’t know how to stop this train wreck.

He turns to look at me, and our eyes meet. Then, he smiles at me, and my heart flutters. I don’t look away, and neither does he. We’re having a silent staring contest, and all of a sudden, I remember that kiss we shared in his apartment. I feel my cheeks warm as I imagine doing that again. I imagine going upstairs to his room and pushing him against the wall, wrinkling his perfect suit. I imagine slowly leaning in and brushing my lips against his, an almost kiss. Then, I would kiss him for real, showing him that I don’t want this to be pretend anymore.

I tear my eyes from his, and stare down at my plate. I can’t think about him like that. I can’t let myself fall for him. But maybe I don’t want to stop this train wreck. Maybe I want to watch the collision so that I can see what will be left when the smoke clears.

***

 “If you want, you can sleep in the guest room tonight,” Baz says later that night. “I know that I’m a bit of a bed hog.”

We’ve both changed into pajamas, and I feel more like myself without the suit on.

For a moment, I consider accepting his offer because I’m worried that I will wake up wrapped around him again. I wouldn’t mind, but he probably would if he woke up to that. Then, I wonder why he wants me out of his bed. Does he know that I had my arm around him this morning?

“Are you trying to kick me out of your bed after you insisted that I shouldn’t sleep on the floor last night?” I ask him.

“I’m not telling you to sleep on the floor.”

“Why don’t you want me in your bed, Baz?” I ask, taking a bold step forward, moving into his space so that he is forced to look at me and not the ground. “Do you not like me there?” I whisper.

“No, that’s not it.”

“So, you do like me there,” I say, smirking at him. My eyes drift down to his mouth for a second, and I once again imagine kissing him. I take a small step back, almost unnoticeable, and force myself to look back up.

“What? No. I just meant that I don’t not like you there.”

I chuckle. “I’m kidding. I’ll sleep in the guest room so that you can have your bed back.” That would probably be for the best.

 “No, it’s fine,” Baz says with a sigh. “You can stay in my room.”

“In your bed?”

I grit my teeth. “Yes, in my bed. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”

I am about to argue that Baz is the one who was making a big deal out of it, but we are interrupted when someone knocks at the door. I step away from him, feeling guilty, even though it wouldn’t be a bad thing if we were caught so close together since we’re supposed to be dating. It just feels different when we are so close like this in secret.

It’s one of Baz’ little sisters, Mordelia. She whispers something to him before skipping away again. Baz closes the door again behind her before turning back to me.

“She says Merry Christmas and that we better go to sleep soon or Santa won’t bring us presents.”

“Okay, let’s go to bed then.”

It’s only slightly less awkward tonight when we climb into bed. Neither of us say anything as we pull the covers up and scoot to our separate sides of the bed. I have trouble falling asleep tonight because I can’t stop thinking about crossing the distance between us. I just want to reach out and hold his hand. It’s such a small gesture, but it wouldn’t be a small thing. There would be so many unspoken words behind it, and he would most likely jerk his hand away since we aren’t in anyone else’s presence. I roll onto my side so that my back is to him and try to sleep.

I’m relieved, but also a little disappointed, when I wake up in the morning and find that we both stuck to our own sides of the bed this time.

**Baz**

It’s Christmas day, and everything seems to be going really well, even better than expected. I should have known it was too good to be true. My father must have been waiting until everyone was happy before he brought it all crashing down. He pulls me aside, but everyone else is still in the room.

“Are you serious about wanting to date boys?” I can’t quite read his tone as he says this. There is no way for me to predict what will come next.

“Yes. Is my boyfriend being here not enough to show you that?”

“I thought that kicking you out would be enough to change your mind. That’s the only reason I allowed you to come over for the holidays.”

“Then, why did you continue to let me when you knew I was bringing my boyfriend?”

“I was hoping that you would come to your senses. That being around your family would help you see what you are missing while you are off with a bunch of boys at school.”

“There aren’t a bunch of boys. It’s just one. And I can’t change the way that I feel. That’s not how love works.” I don’t know if the one boy I’m talking about is my ex or Simon.

“Then, I want you out of my house. You will always be welcome here. But only if you are with a girl and not a boy.” He says this calmly and quietly, like it’s no big deal. Like he isn’t asking for much.

I just stand there, stunned. I should have known it would be a mistake to come back here. I feel frozen to the spot. I’m angry but lashing out at my father won’t help anything. I knew things were bad, but I had hoped that inviting me over for Christmas was a step in the right direction. I was wrong.

I feel a light pressure on my arm and look over to find Simon standing beside me. He looks worried, and I feel bad for bringing him here. I shouldn’t have dragged him into my family drama. Especially when I didn’t tell him about how I had been kicked out.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, but I don’t know if any sound comes out.

He shakes his head and lets his hand slide down to mine. He lightly squeezes before pulling me after him to my room where we begin to pack all of our things.

I brought two suitcases with me, but one of them was actually empty. When my father kicked me out the last time, I was only able to take what I could fit into my small car in one trip, so I had to leave quite a few things. I start packing as much as I can fit into it. There isn’t a lot that I left here. It’s mostly just clothes and books, but I know that I probably won’t be able to come back for it.

When I’m done packing and finally get the suitcase shut, I look up to find Simon watching me with sad eyes. I wish he would stop looking at me like that. I don’t need his pity.

Daphne is waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. She tries to tell me that I don’t have to go, but I do. I have to get away from my father. I can’t stay here in a place where I am unwanted. She says that she understands and hugs me tightly.

Mordelia is the next person to come tell us goodbye.

“When will you be back?” She asks with wide, innocent eyes. She doesn’t quite understand what is going on, but I have hope that she will be on my side when she does.

“I’m not sure.” I tell her, and it hurts not knowing what will come next. I fight back tears. I’ll miss my family, but I refuse to let my father see me cry. “But maybe mom will bring you all to visit me sometime.”

“At your house?” She asks hopefully.

“Yeah, at my house.”

“Will Simon be there?”

“He doesn’t live with me,” I say, avoiding looking at him.

“But he can come, too, right?”

“We’ll see, okay?”

She hugs me tightly and starts to cry. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know, but I have to go back to school.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go to school. I wish you could stay here with all of us.”

“I know, but I have to.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” I say, pushing away a stray tear that falls down my cheek. “But I’ll call, and we’ll talk on the phone.”

“You won’t forget me?”

“No, I won’t forget you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She hugs me one last time and then Simon and I are off. I don’t know when or if I’ll ever come back to this house. It hurts. It feels like I’m walking away from my entire life, but I know that it is for the best. I’ll be better off on my own than I would be here.

**Simon**

Baz speeds all the way back home, and I am worried about what happened. When he told me about how his father didn’t accept him with his boyfriend, I didn’t realize how bad things actually were. I didn’t know that his father was so unaccepting of him liking guys that he kicked him out. I wish that there was something that I could do to help him, but there isn’t. What he needs is time and space.

When we pull up to our apartment building, having gotten there in less time than it took us to get to his house, we both just sit there for a moment in silence. I don’t want to leave him alone right now, but I also don’t know what I should do.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a while, so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I tell him. I wish that I could reach for his hand, to comfort him.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you into that.” He isn’t looking at me as he speaks. He’s staring out the windshield at the spot in the sky.

“You didn’t. I offered to come. I practically forced you to take me along.”

“I should have at least told you the full truth.”

“It wasn’t any of my business.”

“I at least owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything. You don’t owe anyone anything. I’m not mad at you. I don’t care that you didn’t tell me everything. I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to worry.” He sounds so sad.

“Stop apologizing. I’m going to worry because I care about you.” The words slip out and just sit there between us. I hadn’t meant to be so open and honest.

“Why?” He finally manages.

“Honestly? I don’t know. But I do know that you didn’t deserve any of what happened, and I don’t want you to apologize for it.”

“Okay.”

We sit in silence for a little while before he finally pulls the keys out of the ignition and steps out of the car. I follow after, and we walk side by side to our apartments. We part ways without a word, and I struggle not to turn around and look back at him once more before shutting myself up in my empty, quiet apartment.

**Baz**

I drop my suitcases just inside the door, putting off packing until later. I walk into the kitchen and look through the cabinets for food, but I’m not really hungry. I’m just busying myself, afraid that if I stop moving, I’ll break.

There’s a knock at the door, and I have no idea who it could be. I decide to ignore, but then they knock again. I sigh and walk slowly to the door, pushing my stuff over out of the way along the way. I open the door, I’m surprised to find Simon standing there, his hair messed up even more than it was just a moment ago when I last saw him.

“I can’t leave you alone like this,” he says, as he pushes past me into my apartment before I can even say anything.

“Like what?” I ask, confused

“This,” he says vaguely, gesturing towards me. “If I do, you’ll probably end up blasting more Christmas songs through the wall, and I’ll never be able to rest.” I think it’s meant to be a joke, but it comes out weakly. His voice is full of some kind of emotion that I can’t name.

“I’m fine. Really. I wasn’t planning on turning on any music. You can go.” I rake a hand through my hair, not sure what he wants and why he won’t go.

He takes a few steps towards me and backs me into the wall. “What if I don’t want to go?”

“What?” I ask, and I hate how breathy it sounds.

“What if.” He closes all distance between our bodies. “I don’t.” He places his hands on the wall on either side of me, blocking any way for me to leave. “Want to.” He leans in face in towards mine but stops just short of kissing me.

I can feel his breath ghost across my lips, and electricity courses through my body, tingling with the need to pull him closer. So, I do. I don’t even think about it. I grab his hips and pull his body against mine. He grunts as he half falls into me, but he manages to still keep some distance between our lips, preventing the kiss that I so desperately want. He runs his tongue along his lower lip as he eyes flicker between my eyes and my mouth. I lean slightly forward, giving him permission, and then he kisses me.

_Finally_.

This kiss. This kiss is what I have longed for every time that I’ve seen him. It’s the kiss that I wanted to instigate when we were back at my house. I just didn’t know that he wanted the same thing.

This kiss is different from the last one that we shared. There’s no mistletoe. It isn’t for show. We aren’t pretending. There is nothing holding either of us back. This kiss is _real_.

I push him away.

“Wait,” I say, breathless.

“What?” His cheeks are flushed a rosy color.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I like you,” tilting his head like he doesn’t understand why I’m asking such a stupid question.

“I thought you hated me.”

“And I thought _you_ hated _me_.”

We both laugh, and it’s nice, comforting.

“I don’t hate you,” I tell him.

“That’s good. Otherwise, this would be really awkward.”

“Oh, you think?” I smirk at him, sliding my hands up to cup the sides of his face.

“I don’t like thinking. I’d much rather spend my time doing other things.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“This.” And he kisses me again.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to have this finished by Christmas since it's set around Christmas, but I don't know for sure if I'll have enough time. I'm going to try, though!


End file.
